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beside one of the stinking straw pallets on the floor, rolled himself into his furred cloak, and dropped off to sleep. His last thought was that he would have to tell Alinor to delouse him as soon as he came back to Roselynde. He had considered lying on the floor instead of on the infested pallet, but he knew from sad experience that the creatures would be attracted to him wherever he lay, so that he might as well seek what comfort he could find to compensate for the discomfort of the bites to come. |
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When the boys came in they shut the door, and there was little difference between day and night inside the hut. For a while a circle of light came in through the smoke hole, but it did not disturb the sleepers and soon began to fade. Ian stirred into part wakefulness a little while later, but his half-conscious mind soon identified the sounds that had disturbed him. They were the cowherds bringing the beasts in from the field to the newly repaired pens for milking. He drifted into the depths again, unaware of the steady darkening of the smoke hole or, later, the single star that peered in through it. |
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Before the lone star had moved out of position, Ian was as instantly and completely awake as he had been asleep a moment before. His sword was in his hand before he was upright or really aware of what had wakened him. Then he heard it. |
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Something was wrong. The northerners would cry "thegn," the Welshmen "pendeuic," Alinor's men-at-arms "lord." Ian applied his foot firmly to Owain and Geoffrey to rouse them, flung open the door, and hurried out. Three shadows were converging upon him. The foremost was still gasping "eaorling"; the other two were gabbling at each other in broken French, of which Ian caught the words ''guard . . . warn," in one voice and "huntsman" in another. |
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